Rival Gang Leaders
by Super Robot Malinarlen
Summary: Twenty years ago, a young man left on a journey to fulfill his dream...of becoming an engineer! Armed with only a drum, he set off across the sea to Johto. What villainy and romance awaits him in this ancient, mafia filled land?...
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

This story takes place approximately 20 years before Gen IV.

* * *

"What the fudge are you wearing?" his sister chided, sliding down from an overhead oak tree. Toppling earthward, the fringed bottom of her hot pink cloak slapped the ground.

"Hm? Oh, this?" the young man answered slowly, "...Everyone in Johto's wearing it... It's called Yankee Punk Fashion... It's apparently more popular than Gothic Visual Glam now." He continued wrapping a long white bandage around his shirtless abdomen. Tying it off, he slipped his long, blue coat back over it.

"Pfft. You look like an after school gangster. It's macho cheesy, and you'll freeze without a shirt, you know?" She complained, tossing back her choppy white hair. She spent a moment in reflection before speaking once again. "Say... big brother... Are you really going off to Johto?"

"Of course! I've already made up my mind... I'm going to become an engineer," he stated, pocketing his hand, "and... Once I go, I'm not sure if I'll ever come back to Fiore. Nothing's for certain at this point. Well. My dream is for certain. I was just saying that to be cool._" I want to leave my past behind... I'm going to start out clean!_

"Tch... Engineer, my left foot! Do you realize how unsuitable that is for you?" she spat, waiving her arms frantically while trying to persuade him to change his mind.

"Oh?"

"Yes! You're as dense as a tree stump and just as lazy!" She crossed her arms in defiance before speaking again, "Hmph. Fine then... Go ahead and leave the band and do ridiculous stuff! No one likes your wonky bongo-drum playing, anyways!" _Surely, this'll make you wake up now._ She pouted.

"Don't be such a brat, it's not cool at all... Things can't always go your way, 'lil sis," Clyde said, looking down at the ground's grassy leaf-litter and shaking his head disapprovingly. "From here on out... You'll have to learn how to be strong by yourself," he told her, watching her pouting face sink into a bewildered frown. "Continue your striking riffs and solos," he went on, "and bring more music to the people... We might meet again if you do your best, ok?"

Beneath the verdant canopy of Lyra Forest, the young man held out his arms– his tiny sister diving into them. Wailing angrily, she bawled and sobbed with the full force of her lungs.

"Foolish Clyde... You brickhead!" she cried, sniffling violently against his chest. "I'll... snff... miss youuuu!"

_Breaking up our band after all these years, _she thought, overflowing with the memories of being with her three brothers– playing music together and getting into trouble with the law. Laughing and scheming the whole time– planning on how to get rich.

A childish and carefree lifetime was passing her by in favor of a cold and mature future._ Clyde, weren't we all going to keep seeing this world together? As brothers and sister? I've tried caring and I've tried not caring. I've tried being nice and I've tried being mean. _

_I thought my brothers would always listen to me, but when it really matters, I... have no control._

_How could you leave your cute little sister when she says 'don't go'?  
_

"I'll miss you too, sis. Especially your amusing sense of self-importance... Though I've made the mistake of indulging your ego a little too much in the past, you're right about one thing..." The young man patted his sister's back and continued, "You, Garret and Billy have the most fans. It's understandable... My drum-playing really _is_ wonky. All bass and no treble. And recently people go up to me and say 'Oh Garret, sign my forehead' and then I have to say 'Sorry, I'm actually Clyde'... No one will miss my sound, so... Go forth and become the Go-Rock Trio without me!"

"NOOO," she growled, opening her mouth and viciously biting his shoulder._ We can't keep up the rhythm without you! __And you entirely missed my point... Stop bypassing my flawless reverse psychology!_

"Waaah! That hurts!" Clyde bellowed as his sister's teeth tore deeper, "TIFFANY–"

* * *

Gazing beyond the ferryboat's open deck– Clyde grasped the rusted rail bar– narrowing his eyes against the sharp sea breeze. A heavy, conical drum remained swung over his broad shoulders.

"Johto..." he muttered silently to himself.

From what he understood, it was an exotic land covered in cypress woods and ancient, crumbling pagodas.

Johto. A place of mysterious intrigue which stood not far off from its technologically advanced brother– Kanto.

"Right..." he tightened his hands on the cold, iron bar.

_If there's anyone who can do this... It's definitely me!_

_No longer will I live in the shadows... I'll become a new, better man–_

"Hm..." a strange voice resonated nearby.

Snapping around, Clyde glared at its source: a pot-bellied man with a Pelipper on his shoulder.

"What are you looking at?..." Clyde demanded, watching the man carefully, "Hah... Have I met you somewhere before?"

"I was just wondering the same thing!" the rounded man confessed, "But I'm drawing up blanks. It's strange... I'm not sure if I'd ever be able to forget such a weird guy like you..."

"Weird guy? What does that mean?...!"

"Your bandage bandeau and studded, leather choker..." the man guffawed loudly, "It's literally cracking me up!"

"I'll have you know that _where_ I'm _going_– this is the epitome of fashion!" Clyde blazoned in defense._ Laughing at me... Who the hell does this lard-tub think he is?...!_

"Wahaha, oops, sorry." The man regained control, "Didn't mean to insult you there. It sounds like you're going to Johto... We'll I'm going there, too."

"I... see..." Clyde answered anxiously, "Have you been there before...?"_ It seems this guy knows something about its local fashion...!_

"Nope!" The man spat, "But I've heard plenty of stories about its gang problems. Anyway, my name's Cameron. I'm going to Johto to accomplish my dream."

"A dream...hm," Clyde repeated, "Looks like I'm not the only one, then. I'm going there for the same personal reason... Cameron, what is this dream of yours?"

"Ha... You really want to hear?" the man asked, "Alright then... My dream is to become a world famous photographer!"

"A noble dream..."

"So what about you, Clyde? What ambition is boating you off to Johto?"

"My dream?... Hm! It is one I decided upon after careful consideration," Clyde announced, slamming his foot up on the rail and posing coolly, "My dream is to become none other than a world-class engineer. I will smack whatever fails science with a wrench and bring it to justice...!"

"I don't think that's what engineers actually do..."

"Cameron! If you wish to become a famous photographer, you must put boring traditions to rest... And learn to approach things differently! You must be able to predict the trends and remain fashionable before the wave hits."

"...I guess you're right," Cameron considered, scratching his perching pokemon's gullet of a beak.

_But something unsettles me about this weird guy..._ Cameron thought to himself,_ He seems a bit too naive and reckless... And I don't think he understands what's going on in Johto right now..._

_With all the gang wars happening..._

Without warning, Clyde broke out into song– crossing his arms and flooding the breeze with anticipation.

Startled, Cameron fell backwards at the young man's booming voice._ This weirdo's singing now? Seriously?...!_

"Never second to none, reaching out our arms– throwing off the sun... And our feelings were never lost that day–"

_Hmm... this guy's a nutcase. _Cameron closed his eyes and listened._ But he has an OK singing voice...It's passionate. Surprising for such a stiff, tough-looking kid._

_...It really seems like I've heard it somewhere before, though..._

"That road beyond lies dead, reaching past our arms– traced in both light and shade... Remembering the words that we both never said–"

Receding behind them, Fall City's harbor dimmed with mist; and the ocean drew them out further into its unknown void.

_~To Be Continued...~_

* * *

I looked at the Clyde from the PR manga and he looks... lanky. I like his game art better. :S


	2. Chapter 2

Lying flat on his back, Clyde gazed up at the open, night sky. Fiore's mediterranean breeze had long since abandoned him, and the chilling realization of having left home without his siblings replaced it.

_I must admit... it feels lonely,_ he thought.

Turning over onto his stomach, the bench beneath him creaked– its hard wooden planks digging into his skin. Uncomfortably, he flung his legs up over the bench's back and hung upside down. It suddenly dawned upon him.

"...I should've bought a cabin," he said aloud, trying to understand why he didn't.

_That's right, cabin tickets were even more expensive than my costly passenger ticket... Ah, but I'll be spending close to a week sleeping out here on the boat deck... What if it rains? What if I catch a cold and die? Tiffany, you were right, these bandages are no good. I'll freeze without a decent shirt._

_But Garret. If you were here, you'd probably say that I'm too inhuman to get sick, because I actually belong outside– just like an animal._

Clyde's eyes widened in surprise.

"Huh... It's like he's insulting me telepathically..." Clyde considered quietly, blood rushing to his head, "How troublesome..."

_I guess that's what happens when you're siblings._

Closing his eyes, Clyde finally found restful slumber in his strange, upside down position, snoozing through an endless night drifting beyond the water.

Slowly, a hollow clanking noise awoke him.

"Tch..." Clyde rubbed his eyes, adjusting his vision to the dim, early morning light. Laying before him on the deck was a wet, beige furred creature with lazy eyes. As it stared at him with a thoughtless expression, the creature startled him. Sliding down past the bench seat, Clyde slipped, landing head first.

"Dya..." He muttered, rubbing his aching head, "What in the..." Carefully looking at the creature yet again, Clyde finally realized that it was a Slakoth. His Slakoth.

"How did you get here?..." Clyde pondered the creature's appearance, thoroughly perplexed.

_I didn't pack her, did I? _

_...But I didn't pack anything!_

Slakoth swept her clawed fingers through her soaked, messy fur and yawned loudly.

"Don't tell me..." Clyde started, realizing why the creature was wet, "that you swam after this boat."

Slakoth smiled smugly with her wide, flat mouth.

"That's crazy ridiculous... Come here, you're all wet and soggy." Clyde stood up, removing his long blue coat and wrapping it around the slothful pokemon. _Most Slakoth spend their whole lives on the same tree... _He remembered, being a fan of that particular kind of pokemon. _But sometimes they swim long distances to find a new tree..._

"That was dumb, what if you had drowned? This boat is now far away from Fiore... There's no going back, you know?" Clyde mildly scolded the pokemon. In secret, he was relieved that he wasn't traveling to Johto all alone.

Ignoring him, Slakoth crawled forth, abandoning the coat and slowly climbing up Clyde's legs.

"Huh?" Clyde gazed down in shock.

Slakoth wrapped her long, monkey-like arms around Clyde's waist as she shimmied up to his chest. Once there, she clung on motionlessly. This was the pokemon's final stop after her long, grueling swim across the sea; her final destination. It was her purpose.

"Don't be unreasonable," Clyde said, "I can't be your new tree."

"Slak–oh," Slakoth challenged.

"_You're_ the stingy one..." Clyde answered, picking his damp coat up off the deck as Slakoth clawed at his back. "Hey now. Cut it out. You're going to remove my decorative bandage! It's cold out here, and I don't have an actual shirt."

Slakoth snored, seeming not to care one bit about the lengthy strip of white fabric wrapped around his waist.

"Ah, whatever. Be selfish. As always..." Clyde said in defeat, finally accepting Slakoth's life decision._ But I'm not a tree!_

"Tch... All this excitement and now I'm hungry." Clyde concluded, growing distracted and ambling off for the boat's inside entrance.

"This is socially awkward. How will I go to the bathroom now? ...You're not a very cool fashion accessory. People will definitely laugh at me..."

* * *

On the fifth day, harsh weather seized the ferryboat. Rain poured down in heavy gusts and wild waves rocked the ship.

Short of breath, Cameron pounded up the steel grated staircase and stood before the deck's door.

_If that weird guy is still out here, I'm going to flip!_ Cameron thought, flinging the door open.

"Clyde–" the man bellowed into the deafening storm. Startled by the boom of the sea, he glanced off to the deck's port side and finally saw him.

The young man was standing motionless with his clinging Slakoth, staring off into the turbulent sea– his long, blue coat billowing wildly behind him. The straps holding his coat's detachable sleeves whipped, threatening to break away and leave him even colder.

Cameron narrowed his eyes in surprise. _It looks like he hasn't moved for hours! Sheesh. I knew something was off about him when we first met... _

"Clyde!" Cameron shouted, fighting the wind and moving closer, "It's insane out here! I haven't seen you all day! You should come inside and sit in the dining hall–"

"–Can't" Clyde yelled, turning around, "Got kicked out."

"What?...!"

"Kicked. Out." Clyde crossed his hands to signify a no-go.

"You'll need to explain _that_ one to me," Cameron yelled, grabbing his acquaintance by his coat collar and pulling him back inside.

The heavy door pushed closed behind them as Cameron sighed relief.

"There. Much quieter! We're entering through a rocky strip of sea right now..." Cameron told, "But that means we're almost to port. So... What is this bit about you being kicked out of the dining hall?"

"Oh. That?" Clyde replied confidently, "The other night I found a comfortable table there. It had a padded tablecloth and everything, it was quite plush. So I slept on it."

"Slept..." Cameron froze in disbelief, stiffening before speaking again, "On top of it?"

"Yeah, so... I'm at a dissonance with the staff right now." Clyde went on, his coat dripping water, "It must be because I didn't buy a cabin ticket."

"No. I think it's because you slept on top of a dining table."

"Dining tables, beds– both have the same rectangular shape. Say, did you mention something about almost being to port?" Clyde scratched his head. Slakoth copied him– expression and all.

_Is that thing a pokemon or a growth from his body? !_ Cameron grew disturbed. Inhaling sharply, he cleared his mind before answering Clyde's question.

"Yes, the stretch of water before Olivine City is fraught with whirlpools and dangerous weather. In the past, it even served as a barrier against foreign invaders..."

"Hm."

"You're not really paying attention, are you?"

"Eh... Oh?" Clyde snapped out of his daze. "No. I agree with that."

"Agree with _what_?" Cameron demanded. _Musician-types... They're always so tripped-out._

"Excuse me. I left my drum outside," Clyde suddenly remarked, clutching the door handle and disappearing.

_Ah. He was just busy worrying about his drum,_ Cameron realized, turning as he heard a noise from down the hall. The pounding of footsteps and the clinking of keys sounded nearer until finally, gasping for breath, a boat attendant appeared, glaring urgently.

"Sir, please return to your cabin," the man informed, grabbing Cameron's shoulder.

"Huh, what's going on?...!" Cameron demanded, startled by the attendant's sudden pushiness.

"Please return to your cabin and secure every lock on your door. If you don't have a cabin, immediately find a hiding place."

"That doesn't answer my question at all! What's going on?...!"

The boat attendant huffed and glanced about nervously before giving into Cameron's curiosity.

"We're being pursued by pirates," he finally answered.

"Pirates?"

"Yes! We've been trying to outrun them, but they've managed to cut us off... They'll be boarding any moment!"

"Geez..." Cameron rubbed his nose in disbelief. _Pirates? ...I thought he was kidding._

"I'd hurry back to my cabin now if I were you!" The boat attendant turned and ran off.

"This is bad... But I can't sit around and do nothing," Cameron considered carefully.

_So... I should return to my cabin after all, but only so I can get Pelipper. Then we can fight off the pirates together–_

"Ah!" Cameron glanced at the exit door, "But what about Clyde?"

_He's still outside on deck!_

Reaching for the door handle, Cameron yanked it down.

_I should tell him before–_

Coming loose, the handle fell off in his hand– crumbling into thick, metallic chunks.

"Waaargh!" Cameron yelled in disbelief._ The door handle fell off! But how?...!_

_It's impossible! The door won't open from the inside now– do I have to ram it open?_

Banging on the door, Cameron bellowed after Clyde, "Crazy! What are you doing out there? It's dangerous! Come back inside!"

* * *

Listening to Cameron's banging and yelling from the other side, Clyde glanced over his shoulder at the door. Reaching back, Clyde crushed the rest of the handle in his fist, pouring down chunks of metal from his open palm.

"Sorry man, it's nothing against you... I just don't want anyone getting in or out." Clyde shifted, pacing ahead and grabbing up his large, standing drum. Hoisting it over his broad shoulders, he stepped out further into the raging mist.

_This is for the boat's safety... I'll hold off the pirates until we get to port._

All around him, yellow ropes shot up through the misting downpour– their dull metal hooks dragging and grappling into the deck's wooden floorboards.

Human growling and laughing echoed from far off, and the hollow thumping of feet arrived. A dozen unsavory teenagers in brown and beige striped shirts and folded bandannas appeared, pulling empty burlap sacks behind them. Leading the team of delinquents was a burly, sailor-like young man sporting impressive black sideburns and a tight headscarf. Noticing Clyde, the sailor-like youth folded his thick arms and smirked.

"What's this?" he asked amusedly, staring at Clyde's drum, "you going to lay, hmm... A _beat_ on us?"

His gang gushed out laughter at the ridiculous pun. Waiting for them to finish, Clyde stepped forward, stretching his neck in preparation for battle.

"If you have any business here... Make it with me," Clyde stated. "I'm not a bad businessman. In fact, you might even call me an entrepreneur..."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Who?..." Clyde asked, slumping from the blow to his dignity. _Does no one recognize me in this region of the world? Not one of them? _

_I know these guys are pirates, but surely, one of them has to know who I am... _

_Even if they mistake me for Billy or Garret, it would acceptable._

_But then again... I'm dissatisfied when people do that, too!_

Gritting his teeth, Clyde straightened his slouch, fighting back his wounded pride.

"You mean me? I'm this boat's self-proclaimed ambassador of rock," Clyde informed, leaning back lazily with a hand on his side. "As well as being Fiore's very own heart-pounding musical overlord... I'm also the former lyricist and drummer of the famous Go-Rock Quads," he boasted, gazing away coolly with his coat tails billowing. "Yeah... They call me Clyde."

"The who-what squad?" The pirate grunts murmured and questioned each other, "Clyde?"

"That was kind of anti-climatic..." They all seemed to agree with that fact.

"What?...!" Clyde agonized, holding his head in disbelief. _Has our name truly not traveled to the East yet? !_

"Well, Clyde! Since you were so kind to make an introduction, I'll pay you back the favor," the sailor-like leader boasted villainously, "My name's Archie... Powerhouse plunderer and founding leader of this here marauder's gang... But you can just call us Team Ramen."

"Team Ramen?..." Clyde repeated disbelievingly, his stomach growling in response. _You named yourselves after food?... How tasteless._ Despite his absorption with the ridiculousness of their name, his complaining belly was loud enough for everyone on deck to hear.

"Our name is supposed to invoke fear, not hunger!" a pirate grunt groaned.

"Shaddap!" Archie boomed, "Tie this drummer up!"

"Yaaaar!"

Yelling and charging for Clyde, the team lobbed out pokeballs– calling forth an army of stringy Shuckle.

"Wrap him up, Shuckle–"

"Roll out!" The mob barked and cried out their commands, growling as their pokemon lashed out their appendages or pulled up inside their rock-hard shells to start rolling.

"What? No stylers?...!" Clyde realized, jumping away from the blasting tendrils of enemy Shuckle.

_That's right, they don't summon pokemon here... They keep them in pokeballs! I didn't expect them to have so many–_

"Agh!" Clyde groaned, falling over as a Shuckle bounced up and wheeled him in the face, "Slakoth, I could definitely use your help now–"

"Caught you by surprise, have we?" Archie laughed magnificently, "That's what you get for trying to be a hero, Cliff. Now if you'll excuse me, there's riches to burgle!"

Splitting off with a small group of Team Ramen grunts, Archie ran for the door.

"It's Clyde. CLYDE," the drummer yelled, enraged by being forgotten and left to deal with the onslaught of bouncing, whipping Shuckle.

"What? The handle is broken!" Archie yelled, kicking at the deck door, "Shuckle, roll it out!"

"Grrr–" Clyde gasped, struggling to move as the Shuckle tightened their noodle arms on him. _That Team Ramen is going to break in at this rate..._ _They're going to rob everyone on board!_

Staring up at Clyde's pained face and then the surrounding Shuckle, Slakoth's pink pug nose twitched. Growing determined to protect her tree, she slowly unwound her lanky arms and dropped to the deck– disappearing in a shadowy afterimage.

"Huh?" Clyde looked down, wondering where his pokemon went. _Did she... just leave? _

"...No way. You abandoned me?...!" He realized, brimming with outrage. "This is an injustice! I had confidence in you... You! There is a special name for friends like you–"

In an instant, Slakoth reappeared with a raised claw. In a flash of motion, the enemy Shuckle jolted backwards. Rolling around in pain, the noodly pokemon retracted their long arms, leaving Clyde free.

"–That is, friends like you are called 'comrades', it's a name for strong and special friends, after all..." Clyde stammered, taking back his previous lack of faith.

"Slaaa," Slakoth groaned, crawling slowly and latching onto Clyde's leg as if she were a little child.

"Tired already?" he asked, moving away for the deck door. Stepping backwards, he watched cautiously as the Shuckle regained composure and neared in on him once again. "I guess it can't be helped. You did your best and used up all your energy... It's okay, I'll take care of the rest," he declared, slinging off and setting down his tall wooden drum.

"What's he doing?" Archie wondered aloud, stopping to watch. Imitating their boss, his Shuckle and pirate crew stopped along with him, focusing their sights on the drummer.

Raising his hands up high, Clyde pounded down upon the drum's stretched-hide, pummeling the instrument and air with a powerfully deep and sonorous rhythm.

_The sound of... summer?_ Archie wondered, finding the drowsy percussion reminiscent of a Johto summer festival and all its drummers.

Through the blasting mist, the air stilled from the beat, sending out a stream of light which whirled off and away. Out from the far off ocean answered a swarm of deafening roars.

_~To be continued...~_


End file.
